Doctor's Orders
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: When Dr. Leland is forcibly removed from her job as head doctor of Arkham Asylum, the patients are put under the care of a new doctor, who doesn't indulge their eccentricities, and believes pain to be the best medicine. Needless to say, the inmates are not pleased, and determine to get Dr. Leland back by any methods necessary.
1. Chapter 1

**Doctor's Orders**

Dr. Joan Leland frowned at the letter in her hand, re-reading it for what seemed like the hundredth time. She didn't like the tone of it one bit. It didn't say anything specifically troubling – only that the Mayor would be paying her a visit later that day to introduce a new doctor to the staff at Arkham Asylum.

A new doctor wasn't unusual – the staff turnover was pretty high at Arkham. Their particular brand of lunatics weren't capable of being handled by just anyone, and what with the almost constant breakouts, attempted takeovers, and hostage situations, Dr. Leland couldn't say she blamed people for being eager to leave. She had been head doctor here ten years now, however, so she was pretty used to it.

What was unusual was the fact that the Mayor would be coming to introduce him. Dr. Leland always did the employee orientations, and they had always been perfectly adequate. Well, except when she had welcomed Dr. Harleen Quinzel and given her the tour around.

Dr. Leland should probably have listened to the warning bells going off in her head when Dr. Quinzel had claimed that she had "always had an attraction for extreme personalities." She should probably have been more suspicious when Dr. Quinzel appeared to be blushing and seemed unable to take her eyes off the Joker after he had winked at her. And she should definitely have been wary of the fact that Dr. Quinzel had seemed more than usually keen to interview him. At the time, those particular instances hadn't seemed important. In light of the subsequent events, however - Dr. Quinzel having an affair with the Joker, breaking him out of the asylum, and assuming her own criminal identity as Harley Quinn, the Joker's sidekick - they had taken on a more prominent aspect.

But hindsight was 20/20, and nothing like that had ever happened under her watch again. In fact, Dr. Leland congratulated herself on having done a pretty good job keeping the lunatics in line, or as in line as they could possibly be kept, and was also both surprised and pleased at the fact that she was still alive, let alone in her job.

But the Arkham inmates had a kind of cautious respect for her – she couldn't call it affection, or even a huge regard, but there was something that prevented them from killing her when all the other doctors seemed fair game. She saw it briefly when they could have easily pulled the trigger on the gun they were pointing at her during one of the many breakouts - something flashed through their eyes then, and they chose not to. She never knew what that something was, but whatever it was, she was grateful that it was there.

Maybe it was because she indulged them. Possibly too much, she often told herself, but she couldn't forget that these were people, as deranged and homicidal as they might be, and she couldn't help but empathize with them a little. It was why she let the Scarecrow keep books in his cell. It was why she let the Mad Hatter make tea every day. It was why she let Poison Ivy tend her plants. It was why she allowed Harley Quinn to have pictures of the Joker by her bed. It was why she turned a blind eye to the Joker visiting Harley in her cell. These were all things she probably should have put a stop to, but somehow she never had the heart to. If she had one weakness, it was being too tender-hearted toward the lunatics. But she couldn't help it. They were _her_ lunatics, she knew them all so well, and, strange as it seemed, she felt protective of them. Not that she liked to admit this to anyone, even to herself. It wasn't very professional of her.

She was startled out of her thoughts by the buzzer on her desk. "Dr. Leland? The Mayor is here."

"Oh…please send him in," said Dr. Leland, folding the letter and putting it away in a drawer. She stood up, smiling and extending her hand as the Mayor entered, followed by an older, stern-looking man. "Mr. Mayor, it's a pleasure to see you again."

"And you, Dr. Leland," he said, shaking her hand firmly. "Allow me to introduce Dr. Eric Flint. Dr. Flint, Dr. Leland."

"Nice to meet you," said Dr. Leland, shaking his hand. Dr. Flint nodded but said nothing. "I'm sorry, Mr. Mayor, I don't have any information on Dr. Flint's previous employment or qualifications…" began Dr. Leland.

"That won't be necessary," interrupted the Mayor. "I have given him my approval."

Dr. Leland was surprised, but then cleared her throat. "You'll forgive me, Mr. Mayor, but as head doctor…"

"No, I'm afraid you are not," he interrupted again. "And therefore staff evaluation is really no concern of yours."

She stared at him. "I don't understand…"

"I'll be blunt, Dr. Leland," said the Mayor. "Your performance as head of this facility has not been all we have hoped for. Arkham remains a high security risk, and that situation has not changed during your time here, despite numerous financial and political support. Frankly speaking, you have not done your job as effectively as desired, and so you are being terminated with immediate effect. Dr. Flint is in charge here now. You will be transferred to a job at a different medical facility. This city is grateful for all you have done, but there comes a time when a change of leadership is what is needed to achieve the desired results. I'm sure you understand."

Dr. Leland didn't understand. She didn't fully process anything he had said. She was being fired? Just like that? Without a chance to defend herself at all? That didn't seem fair.

"Um…if you'll permit me to disagree with you, Mr. Mayor, I would be incredibly surprised if anyone can do better than I have done with these lunatics," she said slowly. "And I firmly believe I have done the best I can with the resources at my disposal…"

"And perhaps your best is simply not enough," said the Mayor, nodding. "I don't blame you, Dr. Leland – it is a challenging position for anyone. But clearly something needs to be done, and perhaps an injection of fresh blood will be just the thing. Dr. Flint is of a different school of psychiatry than you – perhaps he will be effective in reaching the lunatics in ways you were not."

"And what school is that exactly, sir?" asked Dr. Leland.

"The older school," said Dr. Flint. "That believes in treating these inmates like criminals, rather than indulging their eccentricities. People will never be cured by being coddled. We have to instill in them the desire to cure themselves by ensuring they no longer want to remain here. By making this an unpleasant place for them to be confined in."

Dr. Leland stared at him. "I don't understand. This is a hospital for the mentally ill…"

"No, it is not," Dr. Flint interrupted. "It is a nursery for psychotic children. And you don't teach children to behave by giving them toys and affection. You teach them to behave by disciplining them."

"Are you proposing to spank the inmates?" asked Dr. Leland, dryly. "I'll warn you, some of them might enjoy it. Particularly the Joker."

"And that is just the sort of comment I'd expect from the Joker," retorted Dr. Flint. "A man who doesn't take his therapy, or anything else, seriously. I believe you've allowed their personas to influence you too much, Dr. Leland. That's been a perpetual problem under your administration – it was a doctor you hired who was seduced by the Joker and is currently a patient in this facility, was it not?"

"I hardly think I can be blamed for Harley's…" began Dr. Leland.

"It's not a question of blame – it's a question of attitude. You've clearly conveyed the belief to your staff that these people are worthy of sympathy and compassion. You've let yourself become too close to your patients. You've become as resigned as they are to the belief that they are incurable."

"Well, if they don't believe they can be cured, what hope do we have of convincing them otherwise?" demanded Dr. Leland. "We can't force people to cure themselves."

"Oh, that is exactly what we can do," retorted Dr. Flint. "It's not particularly nice or pleasant, but we can do it."

Dr. Leland stared at him. Then she turned to the Mayor, angrily. "Mr. Mayor, I must object to this medieval attitude toward mental health…"

"Forgive me, Dr. Leland, but your objections are no longer anyone's concern," retorted the Mayor. "You are no longer in charge here. I suggest you resign yourself to that fact."

Dr. Leland had no intention of doing anything of the kind, but at that moment, one of the guards rushed into her office. "Dr. Leland, you're needed in the cafeteria," he said, breathlessly. "The patients are rioting again."

"Oh, for God's sake!" snapped Dr. Leland, rushing out of the room after him. Why did this have to happen today of all days? It was the last thing she needed – proof to the Mayor that she couldn't keep the inmates under control.

She raced into the cafeteria to see Joker pinned to the ground, laughing, as Poison Ivy strangled him. Harley Quinn was screaming at her to let him go, and pummeling Ivy, while Tetch and Crane tried futilely to pull Ivy off of him.

It was clearly one of the usual, ridiculous fights between Joker and Ivy – he had probably made some stupid joke, which Ivy had taken personally, and attacked him, and which had gotten out of hand really quickly. But Dr. Leland was in no mood for it today.

"Stop it now!" she shrieked, furiously. "Stop it, stop it, stop it! I do not need this right now, all right?! Just let go of him!"

The inmates were stunned by the anger in her voice, and Ivy let go out of sheer surprise. Joker sat up slowly, massaging his throat and staring at Dr. Leland. "Gee, Doc, what's up with you? You as bad at taking a joke as Pammie?"

Ivy seized him around the throat again and began beating him to the ground. "No!" screamed Dr. Leland. "I am in no mood for this, do you understand me?! Why the hell can't you people just behave for once?! It's your fault, all of it, your fault! And I hope you're happy, I really do!"

She rushed from the room, sobbing. Everyone stared after her in shock. "Was it something we did?" asked Joker.

"Maybe she's pregnant, Mr. J," said Harley, helping him to his feet. "Gals get all crazy and emotional when they're pregnant."

"Yeah? That your excuse?" he chuckled. She just stared back at him, and his face suddenly fell. "That ain't your excuse, is it?" he asked, with a slight note of desperation in his voice. "You ain't pregnant, are ya?"

Harley's face cracked into a smile. "Got ya, puddin'!" she cooed. "Joke's on you!" she purred, ruffling his hair fondly.

He slapped her across the face. "It ain't funny, you dumb broad!" he snapped. "And nobody plays jokes on me, get it?!"

"Don't you dare hit her!" shrieked Ivy, knocking him to the ground again and pummeling him.

"Oh, this is ridiculous!" snapped Crane, throwing up his hands. "Beat each other to a pulp if you like - I wash my hands of you all!"

"Yes, and it is time for tea," said Tetch, checking his pocket watch. "Mustn't be late, you know. Come along, Jonathan."

They sat calmly drinking tea at the table and watching while Joker, Harley, and Ivy fought. None of them could ever suspect how much things were about to change.


	2. Chapter 2

Dr. Leland had two days to clean out her office and say her goodbyes. She didn't even know how to begin to do that, but she figured out of all the inmates, she would tell Harley first. After all, they had been colleagues together, and Harley was by far the most sympathetic patient incarcerated in the facility. It was an odd contradiction with Harley that she was a genuinely sweet person who truly cared about the people close to her, and yet had no qualms killing masses of innocent people to make her puddin' happy.

She went to her cell, to see her kissing and cooing over her framed picture of the Joker. Dr. Leland didn't understand Harley's bizarre attraction, no one did, but she had admit, she was going to miss her sweet, honest, and hopeless devotion to her puddin'.

"Harley? Can I talk to you?" she asked gently.

"Sure, Joan, about anything, you know that," said Harley, putting down the picture and beaming. "What's on your mind?"

Dr. Leland looked at her, and then down at the floor. "Yesterday I was given some information which…is going to change a lot of things. And because I used to work with you, I thought you should be the first to know that…"

"You're pregnant?" interrupted Harley, beaming. "Aw, that's great news, Joan! Congratulations!"

"Um…no, I'm not even married, Harley," replied Dr. Leland, slowly.

"Well, that don't really matter in this day and age, do it?" said Harley, shrugging. "Mind you, I'm an old-fashioned kinda gal – if I found out Mr. J had knocked me up, I'd make him put a ring on it before the kid was born, y'know, for the kid's sake. I just believe in family values like that. You gotta consider these things, y'know, even if you are on the pill, and I am, but still, accidents do happen. Mr. J ain't a fan of safe sex – he ain't a fan of safe anything. And he's really spontaneously in the mood, so you gotta have a pretty regular form of birth control. Plus I gotta say, I really enjoy it raw…"

"WHY are you telling me all this, Harley?" interrupted Dr. Leland. "Nobody wants to hear about your sex life! And I'm not pregnant! I'm being fired!"

Harley stared at her. "Fired?" she repeated. "But…but why, Joan?"

"The Mayor doesn't believe I've done a good enough job curing you all, so he's replacing me with somebody he's picked himself," she retorted. "I'm being transferred to another hospital. I have to be out of here by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" exclaimed Harley, leaping to her feet. "But…no! No, that ain't right! They can't just dismiss you like that, not after all you've done, not after you've been here for so long, not when you ain't done nothing wrong! If you'd stolen stuff or had an affair with a patient or something, then they could fire you. But just like this…that ain't decent! This is America, dammit, and we treat people with respect! You tell the Mayor we're gonna protest! I'm sure I can get the others to…"

"It won't do any good, Harley," replied Dr. Leland. "You were a doctor long enough to know how bureaucracy works. If they want to get rid of me, they will. There's nothing anyone can do about it."

"Aw, Joan, you can't give in like that!" exclaimed Harley. "We'll fight for you…"

"I don't want to be fought for," she interrupted. "Although I'm flattered, really, Harley. But I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me. I've had a good run here, and maybe a change of scenery will do me some good. Maybe I'll be able to catch up with some old friends, and focus more on my personal life. Maybe I'll start a relationship with someone and…well, maybe when you next see me, someday when you've cured yourself, I really will be pregnant. And then we can both congratulate each other."

"But…but I'm gonna miss you, Joan," murmured Harley, tears in her eyes. "And what if this new doctor is mean and don't understand about me and Mr. J…"

"I'm sure he'll be perfectly understanding, Harley," said Dr. Leland, with much more conviction than she felt. "Anyway, it's for the best, it really is."

She didn't believe that, and neither did Harley. It was difficult to try to be the strong one when Harley was sobbing her heart out – part of her wanted to break down and cry with her.

And that desire grew even more powerful when she said goodbye to the inmates as a group the next day. Harley was still sobbing – Dr. Leland wondered if she had stopped since the previous day, but the others betrayed very little emotion as they sat gathered in the Rec Room.

"Well…I'd just like to say…thank you very much for not killing me," said Dr. Leland to the room at large. "It's been…an experience, getting to know you all, and I can honestly say I'll never forget any of you. I hope your therapy progresses more efficiently under Dr. Flint's management, and that you can all be sane, healthy, productive citizens in the future."

Joker laughed hysterically. "Good one, Doc! You always appreciated a joke! Gotta say, this place'll be strange without you. End of era. Out with the old, and in with the new. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't. 'I' before 'e,' except after 'c.' And other similar platitudes to that effect."

Nobody else said a word. "I…um…guess that's it," said Dr. Leland. "I hope maybe I'll be allowed to visit, but if not…good luck with the new doctor. I'm sure he'll be…just fine."

She headed for the door, and then turned back. "Pamela, do me a favor and…look after Harley, would you?" she asked gently. "I would ask Joker but…I know him."

"I always look after Harley," retorted Ivy. "You should know that."

"I do," murmured Dr. Leland. "I know that. I know…I…" She felt tears come to her eyes, and determined to leave before she broke down. "Goodbye," she said hastily, as she rushed from the room, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't bear to look back.


	3. Chapter 3

"No!" shrieked Harley, fighting fiercely against the four guards who struggled to hold her. "No, no, no! I won't let you take him away!"

She broke free and rushed to attack the guard who was attempting to remove the pictures of the Joker from her cell. "Put him down!" she shrieked, punching him in the head. The man dropped the picture with a cry, and the frame cracked on the ground. Harley shrieked and grabbed it, clutching it protectively to her chest. "You ain't taking him away!" she screamed, glaring at them.

"What seems to be the problem?" demanded Dr. Flint, who had been attracted by the sound of the scuffle.

"The patient is resisting the seizure of the banned objects, Doctor," explained the guard.

Dr. Flint stared calmly back into Harley's defiant eyes. "It's Dr. Quinzel, isn't it?" he asked.

"It's Harley Quinn," she snapped. "The Joker's Harley Quinn. And you ain't taking my puddin' away from me."

Dr. Flint smiled without humor. "Please escort her to my office," he said, striding back down the hall. Harley was dragged after him, struggling with one arm and holding the Joker picture protectively with the other. They passed down the cell block to see other guards clearing out the rooms of the other inmates. Ivy had been manacled to the wall, but was screaming at the guards taking away her plants. Crane was giving the guards a look that would kill as they dragged away his books. And Tetch looked on the verge of tears as the guards cracked his tea set as they confiscated it.

Harley was shoved into the office and the guards left as Dr. Flint shut the door on them. "Please sit down," he said, gesturing to a chair opposite the desk. Harley took the seat, looking at him warily and clasping the picture to her heart.

"I want you to understand why I have to do this, Dr. Quinzel," he said, pouring himself a drink. "I know it's no use explaining it to the other inmates – they are all raving lunatics. But you, having been a doctor, must surely understand that it is in the patient's best interest to deprive them of anything that will prolong their mania, and indulge their particular form of insanity."

"It's cruel, is what it is," snapped Harley. "What harm is it doing any of us to have the things that make us feel comfortable?"

"Great harm," he retorted. "I'm sorry you can't see it – you must have been a poor doctor. But then I expected someone who fell for the Joker's mind games to be largely unintelligent. You see, he is the reason you are mad. To allow you to continue to obsess over him, to surround yourself with images of him, only deepens his control over you, and strengthens your madness. You cannot escape him. He surrounds you all the time, and influences you subliminally. You can never be free of his power until you are free of his image."

"I don't want to be free of his power," snapped Harley. "I'm in love with him. There's nothing wrong in that."

Dr. Flint laughed, a dry, humorless laugh. "In love with him," he repeated, contemptuously. "Shall I explain to you what is wrong with that? Because he is a monster, Dr. Quinzel. He is a murderer, an evil, heartless, unfeeling creature who doesn't deserve love, and is incapable of feeling affection. The fact that you have not realized this by now is mind-boggling to me, and indeed to everyone. He is a freak, a filthy degenerate, who is only using you to satisfy his own selfish and perverted whims…"

"He ain't!" interrupted Harley, furiously. "He ain't, he ain't, he ain't! He ain't any of those things! He's the handsomest, sweetest, most wonderful man in the world, and he loves me!"

"He played you for a fool from the first moment he met you, just to escape from here," retorted Dr. Flint. "And you let him. A doctor, a representative of the medical profession, a bright, intelligent young woman, you let him…use you. You're sick and disgusting, as sick and disgusting as he is. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

"I will never be ashamed of loving him!" shrieked Harley. "Do you understand me?! Never!"

Dr. Flint looked at her. "Perhaps I cannot make you feel shame for what you have done," he murmured. "Perhaps you have debased yourself so much that you are no longer capable of shame or guilt. But I can make you feel pain, Dr. Quinzel. I can make you regret ever becoming involved with that hideous monster. And I will, I promise you. I will."

"Do your worst," she hissed. "I can take pain. Mr. J's done a good job teaching me."

He smiled. "As you wish. Just remember that you brought this on yourself, Dr. Quinzel."

He buzzed for the guards. "I want her taken to the electrotherapy room, please," he said. "Oh, and give me that picture," he said, indicating the framed photograph Harley still clutched tightly to her chest.

The guard looked from him to her. "I don't think…that will be possible, sir," he said, slowly.

Dr. Flint sighed. "No, not with the small-minded staff employed here. Perhaps it is time to do a little rehiring."

And suddenly he struck Harley a hard blow across the face, which stunned her enough to loosen her grip on the picture. He seized it from her and then threw it into the fireplace. Harley screamed, watching in agony as the flames blackened and crumpled the image of the Joker.

"Now take her away. And bring me the Joker," said Dr. Flint, returning to his desk.

Harley was dragged off sobbing. Dr. Flint sipped his drink calmly as he went over to stoke the fire, making sure the photograph was completely consumed.

Several minutes later, there was a knock on his door, and the Joker was brought in, handcuffed and chained. "Thank you, you may go," said Dr. Flint as the guards deposited him in the chair, and then shut the door.

Dr. Flint sat down across from the Joker, studying his perpetually smiling face. "Gonna offer me a drink, Doc?" he asked, nodding at the glass.

"I wasn't intending to, no," retorted Dr. Flint.

"Well, that's not very hospitable of you, I must say," sniffed Joker.

"And why should I be hospitable toward you?" asked Dr. Flint.

Joker chuckled. "Because we're in a hospital, Doc. Get it? Hospitable, hospital…"

"Is that a standard example of your kind of joke?" interrupted Dr. Flint, calmly. "Because it's not funny."

Joker shrugged. "Nah, it ain't one of my best. My best are the ones where people die right after I tell 'em. Well, die, horribly maimed, permanently disabled, I'm not picky," he said, waving his hand. "Just as long as there's a little pain to put a smile on my face."

"Oh, is that what pain does to you?" murmured Dr. Flint, quietly.

"Yeah. Why, Harley's not been telling tales, has she?" he giggled. "Ok, I admit it, it also turns me on sometimes. Geez, you think a guy could trust his girlfriend to…"

"What did you just call her?" murmured Dr. Flint.

"My…uh…girlfriend," repeated Joker, puzzled. "Because that's what she is…"

"Would it not be more appropriate to call her your tool?" retorted Dr. Flint. "Your toy, perhaps? Your pet? Your pawn that you manipulated to serve your own ends?"

Joker laughed. "You don't deal with a lotta women, do ya, Doc?" he chuckled. "They don't generally like to be thought of as tools or pawns or various types of animals. Well, except for the Cat Lady, but she's nuts, y'know. But really I could probably call Harley whatever I like, and she'd still love it. Dame's crazy for me. Or she certainly went crazy for me anyway!" he laughed.

Dr. Flint did not. He just looked back at Joker coldly. "You are right, I do not deal with many women," he murmured. "I have not dealt with any since my wife died two years ago in an accident. Well, I say an accident, but that would imply that it was no one's fault, which is untrue. It was someone's fault. Someone caused the accident."

"Does this joke have a good punchline?" said Joker, yawning. "Because the buildup's pretty poor and I'm getting kinda bored."

"It was your fault, Joker," he murmured, quietly.

Joker grinned. "I was hoping that would be the punchline," he chuckled.

Dr. Flint seized him around the collar. "You sick, foul, disgusting…thing!" he hissed. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be told by the police that the woman you love is dead because the Joker, randomly and for no reason at all, sprayed Joker toxin into the hospital where she was going for a routine appointment? Do you have any idea what it's like to think she's gone on an errand, and then never see her again? Do you have any idea what it's like to have to go down to the morgue and identify her body, smiling forever in agony? Do you?"

"Hey! It wasn't for no reason!" snapped Joker. "It was a gag! And one of my better ones too! So at least she died for a good cause! I laughed at that joke for weeks!"

"What joke?" he demanded.

He giggled. "I said 'No need to waste time waiting here, folks! Laughter is the best medicine!' And I was right. It cured those people of their troublesome disease of life! Anyway, you should be thanking me, Doc. It means you go can play the dating circuit again – y'know, find a younger, hotter woman! Upgrade! It's why I wish someone would kill Harley so I can do the same…"

Dr. Flint punched him across the face, still holding him with one hand. Joker just giggled. "Oooh, somebody has anger management issues! You might wanna see a shrink for that…"

"I will destroy you for what you've done," he hissed. "I will destroy all of you."

"Yeah, well, get in line," snapped Joker. "Look Doc, nobody's destroying me except a certain caped rodent, once he snaps and realizes that's what he wants to do, anyway. Besides, if you kill me in cold blood, Harley will be after yours, and I guarantee the dame won't stop until you're dead."

"Do you think I care what happens to me?" hissed Dr. Flint. "If I had to suffer the most extreme torture for killing you, I'd do it. It can't be worse than the torture you already inflicted upon me."

He released him suddenly. "But I'm not going to kill you," he murmured. "I'm going to cure you, even if I have to destroy you in order to do that. I'm going to make sure you never escape from here again. You and all your fellow inmates are animals, who only respond to one instinct: fight or flight. And if I break your fight, I'll break your flight."

"And you think you can break my fight?" snorted Joker. "Challenge accepted, Doc! You do your worst! I can take pain! I can take whatever you throw at me! And I'll take it all with a smile on my face, just like the one your wife had at the end! Although I'm sure I wear it better!" he chuckled. "And I'm still breathing, of course…"

Dr. Flint punched him again and then called for the guards. "Get him out of here," he muttered. "Make sure he's restrained in his cell. Make sure they all are. Bring him to the electrotherapy room after you're done with Quinzel. He's going to need intensive treatment."

"I like the sound of that, Doc!" laughed Joker. "I really do!"

He was dragged off, giggling hysterically. Dr. Flint watched him until he was out of sight, the echo of his laughter ringing mockingly in his ears.


	4. Chapter 4

Jonathan Crane was thrown into his cell, sputtering and coughing. The door slammed and he lay on his hands and knees for a moment, trying to catch his breath. "Just like being back at school again," he muttered to himself as he slowly sat up, leaning against the wall.

He heard a tapping against the stone, listened for a moment, and then struggled to his feet, making his way slowly over to the cell door and peering out to make sure no guards were around. Then he returned to the wall and murmured, "The time has come, the Walrus said, to talk of many things."

"Of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings," murmured Jervis Tetch from the neighboring cell. "And why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings."

There was silence. Then Crane murmured, "How are you, Jervis?"

"I have the most terrible headache," replied Tetch. "It won't go away. And it's not even from the therapy – it's because of the lack of caffeine. I've had tea almost every day of my life, and to suddenly be deprived of it…it's worse than any of the tortures they inflict."

He sighed. "How are you, Jonathan?"

"I've just been waterboarded," murmured Crane. "It's no worse than when they used to hold my head down the toilet at school, you know. And once you get past the initial terror of drowning, once you embrace the fear, it's not so bad."

"No. I don't much care for the hosing down with ice water, though. It's not very dignified."

"Torture generally isn't," retorted Crane.

"At least torture has a purpose," said Tetch. "What are they hoping to accomplish by doing this to us?"

"Beat sanity back into us, I assume," said Crane. "Although frankly if the repeated beatings by Batman hasn't done that, I doubt this is going to."

"Do you really think that's it?" asked Tetch quietly.

"Well, I assume so. Why do you think they're doing it?"

"I think they're hoping to break us," he murmured. "Mentally, physically, whatever snaps first. I think they're hoping to drive us mad, but not our kind of mad. They're hoping to drive us as mad as everyone else, docile, weak, submissive human beings who won't fight, who will stay in line and do as we're told. For what is it to be considered sane but that?"

"I hardly think that's likely to happen, though," retorted Crane. "Can you imagine it working on the Joker?"

"I can't imagine any sort of cure working on the Joker," replied Tetch. "But perhaps for those not as…strong as he is."

Crane was silent. "You're thinking of the ladies?" he asked. "Pamela and…Harley?"

"Oh, Pamela's at least as strong as the Joker," retorted Tetch. "I was actually thinking of myself, if this abominable headache doesn't disappate soon. I'd do whatever they want at the moment for a cup of tea. But yes, Harley is to be considered. When you can hear her screaming all the way in our cell block…her treatment seems a bit extreme."

"They do seem to be especially harsh to her," murmured Crane. "I wonder why that is. They can't be foolish enough to think that the Joker cares if she's in pain. He inflicts pain upon her constantly."

"Yes," replied Tetch. "It must be a more personal vendetta then. Though I can't imagine Harley having done anything to anyone worthy of a vendetta. She's such a sweet child."

"She is," agreed Crane, nodding. "I wish there was something we could do to protect her. Or at least make sure she's all right. But it's impossible to communicate with anyone the way things are. We don't get to spend any time out of our cells anymore."

"Perhaps they believe we'll affect each other's cure," replied Tetch. "I daresay if the guards found out we were speaking to each other, they'd transfer one of us to another cell."

"Then we must stop speaking soon, before they return," sighed Crane. "Though without my books, I don't mind saying, my mind is stagnating."

"I keep reciting the complete text from the Alice books to try and occupy my mind, and retain my memory," replied Tetch. "And distract myself from my headache. Feel free to listen in if you think it will help."

Suddenly, they heard Harley's voice twisted in a high-pitched scream of agony from elsewhere in the asylum. They were silent as the minutes ticked by and the screaming continued. After what seemed like ages, it stopped, to be replaced by a hysterical, maniacal laugh from a different voice they knew well.

"Why does he always laugh at her pain?" murmured Crane.

"Because he wants to keep provoking them to hurt her?" suggested Tetch. "Because he's a monster?"

"Well, yes, but we knew that," sighed Crane heavily. "Anyway, I could certainly use a distraction. Go on, Jervis."

Tetch nodded and cleared his throat. "'Chapter I: Down the Rabbit-Hole. Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do…'"


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm sorry, Dr. Leland, you can't come in."

Dr. Leland stared at the guard on duty outside Arkham in disbelief. "Oh…I see," she stammered. "Why is that, Pete?"

"I wasn't told the reason – I was just told not to allow you inside," replied Pete. "Orders are orders, Dr. Leland. I'm sorry."

"Pete, you've welcomed me into work for the past ten years," said Dr. Leland gently. "Don't you think you could make one exception…"

"I am sorry, Dr. Leland, but Dr. Flint was very specific," said Pete. "Under no circumstances are you to be allowed inside the grounds. It's more than my job's worth to make an exception."

Dr. Leland sighed. "Ok. Thank you, Pete," she murmured. "Can I at least turn around?"

"Of course, Dr. Leland," he said, nodding.

"Thanks," she sighed, as he raised the barrier. She drove into the grounds until she reached the parking lot, and then turned the car around. She would have driven straight out, but something suddenly caught her eye. She had worked at Arkham for ten years, and knew the grounds well. She certainly could have told you every tree and every shrub in them. Which is why she was surprised to see a rose bush blooming in the center of the grounds. Roses weren't allowed – the thorns were considered dangerous to the inmates. Although Dr. Leland had always thought that with these inmates, anything could be considered dangerous. She had seen what Joker could do with a pen.

As she stared at it, a stem of thorns suddenly snaked across the grounds, heading for her car. Dr. Leland would have been shocked, but she was used to Ivy's plants having a mind of their own. She rolled down the window and the stem entered the car, uncurling and dropping something into the passenger seat. Then it slithered away.

Dr. Leland looked down to see the plant had deposited a tape. There was a note attached. _I'm sorry I broke my promise to you, but there's nothing we can do. Get help. Get Batman. – Ivy_

Needless to say, this didn't ease Dr. Leland's mind. But she was in no way prepared for what she saw on the tape once she returned home.

During Dr. Leland's administration, the former electrotherapy room at Arkham, the remnant of a less humane time in the treatment of mental illness, had been used for record storage. But she was surprised to see on the security tape that the room had been restored to its former glory, or infamy, which might be the more appropriate term. There were bright, blinding lights which hurt her eyes even on the tape, and wires everywhere, connected to a metal slab equipped with restraints. And being shocked at the moment was a man she recognized, even without the hysterical laughter accompanying his own torture.

"That's enough," muttered Dr. Flint, and the assistant cut the power.

Joker kept laughing. "Oooh, it tickles!" he giggled. "Makes me feel all tingly inside! Gotta say, I have missed the old Shock and Sting!" he said, patting the machine fondly as the attendants detached the wires. "They used to try this stuff on me right at the beginning, y'know, when they still believed in good, honest torture as therapy, instead of a lotta boring chit-chat. Takes me back to the good old days when I was young, wild and carefree, in the early days of battling the Bat. Happy times!" he sighed.

"No, leave him here," said Dr. Flint as the attendants were about to drag him off. "And bring in Quinzel."

Joker chuckled. "Still hoping torturing Harley is gonna somehow break my heart? I can assure you, it's my least vulnerable spot."

"I'm not naïve enough to assume that you care about her feelings," retorted Dr. Flint. "I just want you to be here when the pain finally defeats her, and you hear her renounce you. I want you to watch the moment when I break her, and prove to you your power over her is not as strong as you thought. It will not hurt you to see her in pain, but it will hurt you to know that I've won."

Joker giggled hysterically. "You know why I laugh every time you torture her?" he murmured. "Because it means she hasn't broken yet. And the joke's on you, because she never will."

Dr. Flint smiled. "We'll see," he murmured.

Harley was dragged in screaming and fighting. She saw Joker and shrieked, "Mr. J!" desperately. She suddenly elbowed one of the guards in the face, and kneed the other in the groin, so that they both let go of her, gasping in pain. Then she rushed over to Joker, throwing herself into his arms and clutching him tightly, sobbing.

"Mr. J, you gotta make them stop, please!" she sobbed. "I can't take it anymore – it hurts so bad! Please, puddin'! Please make 'em stop!"

He shushed her, stroking her hair. "Now, look at me, pooh," he said, tilting her face up to his. "What does Daddy like best in the whole wide world?"

"A nice, big smile," she whispered.

"That's right, kiddo," he breathed, kissing her gently. "Now make Daddy proud."

She nodded and kissed him again before she was dragged away and fitted to the slab. The power was reactivated and Dr. Flint said quietly, "Now, Dr. Quinzel, do you regret betraying your professional ethics for this filthy degenerate?"

Harley shook her head slowly, gazing at Joker tenderly. "No."

Dr. Flint nodded, and Harley screamed as a powerful shock was administered to her, one which lasted a good thirty seconds before Dr. Flint raised his hand. "Let me ask you again," he murmured quietly. "Do you regret sacrificing your career and your mind for this disgusting freak?"

"I said no!" shrieked Harley. "No, I won't ever regret it!"

He raised his hand again and the shocking resumed. Joker watched it all with a smile on his face, chuckling to himself.

"Dr. Quinzel, I can make the pain stop," murmured Dr. Flint, after several minutes of torture. "All I need you to say is that you regret your actions. Say that, and all the pain will go away. You will be subjected to this no longer. Just tell me you don't love him."

Harley had her eyes squeezed shut as she sobbed, but now she opened them to gaze tenderly at Joker, and then defiantly at Dr. Flint. "I do love him," she hissed. "I will never stop loving him. You can torture me all you want, you can kill me, but it ain't gonna stop me loving him, get it? I always will. Always."

Dr. Flint sighed. "I'm afraid we'll need to increase the power. Clearly you're not responding well to this level of therapy."

He nodded at the attendants to turn some switches. Tears trickled down Harley's face as she stared at Joker. "Mr. J. I love you," she breathed.

"I know, pumpkin pie," he whispered. "Now let's see your million volt smile, toots!"

Harley managed a laugh, which turned into a shriek of agony, writhing as the bolts of electricity shot through her. Joker laughed wildly over the screaming, and then the tape went dead.

Dr. Leland stared at the screen, stunned. Her surprise instantly turned to rage, and she seized the tape, dashing from her apartment and into her car. She had never driven so fast, and was at the Gotham City Police Department in a matter of minutes.

She raced up the stairs and over to the guard on duty. "You have to get Batman!" she gasped. "It's an emergency!"

The guard looked at her, and then reached for his buzzer. "Detective Bullock? There's a lady here who would like to see Batman."

"Aw, Christ!" snapped the voice on the other end, and a few seconds later, Harvey Bullock strode into the lobby. "If you're looking for a boyfriend, sweetheart, Bats ain't gonna oblige ya. But I might," he said, lighting a cigar.

"I don't really have time for a lot of talk, Detective," snapped Dr. Leland. "It's imperative that I see Batman at once. I'm Dr. Joan Leland…"

"Hey, I know that name," said Bullock, raising his eyebrows. "You're the freak doctor, ain't ya?"

Dr. Leland gritted her teeth. "I was formerly the head doctor at Arkham Asylum, yes," she muttered. "But I've since been dismissed, and now terrible things are happening there…"

"Terrible things are always happening there," interrupted Bullock, puffing on his cigar. "Round here we call it the Death Trap."

"And I'm sure that's very witty of you," retorted Dr. Leland. "But I can guarantee Batman would like to be made aware of what kind of so-called treatment is being administered to…"

"Aw, what is it, Doc?" said Bullock, in mock sympathy. "Are the freaks getting the crap kicked outta them a little? Getting done to them what they've done to thousands of people? You'll understand if I don't shed a tear. You'll also understand if I don't care."

"You have a duty to protect…"

"The innocent," finished Bullock. "Yeah, I know. And those freaks ain't innocent. Frankly if this new doc wants to torture them to within an inch of their life, I'll shake his hand. Anyway, he ain't doing nothing wrong. He's been appointed by the city, and unless you can prove any kinda malpractice, I'll ask you to stop wasting police time."

Dr. Leland held up the tape. "This is evidence of…"

Bullock took the tape from her, and then snapped it in two, tossing it into the trash can. "I don't see no evidence," he said, turning away. "Now get outta here, Doc. There are people who are really in need of the law's help. Heck, there are people who are really in need of the Batman's help, poor, pathetic bastards. But those freaks can handle themselves – they always have. And if this guy has finally got them under control, I'd say he's doing his job pretty damn well. Certainly much better than you ever did. See ya later, Doc."

He strode off, puffing on his cigar. Dr. Leland stared after him, and then her hands tightened into fists. "This isn't over," she hissed, storming from the building.


	6. Chapter 6

"Get in there, freak!" snapped the guard, shoving Crane back into his cell.

"Do you know, the one difference between this and being bullied at school is that the schoolchildren came up with cleverer nicknames than you idiots," retorted Crane. "And that is saying something. Lame Crane, Crane the Brain, which I didn't really perceive as an insult…"

"Just shut up!" snapped the guard, striking him across the face and storming off.

"Violence is the last refuge of the intellectually inferior!" Crane shouted after him. "Moron," he muttered, rubbing his jaw. "I don't know about you, Jervis, but I've had just about enough of being bullied."

"As have I. But there's nothing we can do about it," murmured Tetch from the neighboring cell. "Some would say the ignorant are the only truly happy people. At least they are unaware of their powerlessness."

"I'd rather be intelligent than happy," snapped Crane.

"At this point, I'd be whatever puts me out of the pain," murmured Tetch.

"Look, I know it's difficult, Jervis, but we have to keep fighting," said Crane.

"Why?" demanded Tetch. "Is there any hope of victory? Is there any chance of escaping their clutches? Do you have some miraculous plan for getting us out of here, Jonathan?"

"No, but that doesn't mean the others don't…"

"Forgive me if I'm not eager to put my faith in the likes of the Joker," retorted Tetch. "Harley was, and look where that got her."

"I know he's a monster, but he's not about to let them win," retorted Crane. "He'll be contriving a plan for escape, I know it."

"And what makes you think he'll be inclined to take us with him?" demanded Tetch.

"I don't think he will be. But surely in the chaos of his escape we can formulate some plan of our own…"

Crane was abruptly silenced as something suddenly wrapped itself over his mouth. He was stunned to see that it was a plant vine, which gradually released his mouth and then beckoned him forward. It bent the lock on the cell and Crane gently pushed the door open. "Jervis, I think the time has come," he whispered.

The plant vine beckoned them down the cell block, and then disappeared into one of the offices. Crane and Tetch followed it into complete darkness. Crane reached for the lightswitch, but the plant vine abruptly seized his hand. "Don't touch it!" hissed Ivy's voice. "They can't know we're in here!"

"And who is we, exactly?" whispered Crane.

"Just me for the moment. J's taking out a few of the guards to get their weapons, hopefully quietly."

"And Harley?"

"Still in electrotherapy. We're going to bust her out, and then we're getting out of here. If you want to help take out some guards, you're welcome to."

"It would be a pleasure," replied Crane.

The door opened at that moment and Joker slipped inside, clutching several guns to his chest. "Right, in case anyone ever has to decide between suffocating someone or snapping their necks, I recommend the latter," he said. "Much quicker. Also, thank God for smokers."

He flicked on a cigarette lighter. "Oh, nerdlingers, nice of you to join us," he said, noticing Crane and Tetch and smiling. "The more the merrier, that's my motto! Although I hate to take you all away from the delights of Flinty's Asylum. It's like a party every day!"

"Yes. Some sort of sick, sadistic party of pain," retorted Crane.

"Aw, c'mon, Johnny, I kinda enjoy a good hosing down with ice water!" chuckled Joker. "Nothing clears the mind like it! Anyway, it was originally like this back in my day. If you just roll with the pain, it gets better. Or just tell yourself it's like battling the Bat! That makes everything fun!"

"Batman doesn't use electroshock," retorted Crane.

"Really? I'm sure he used to have the Bat-zapper. Or maybe he just saved that one for me. Maybe it was our special toy," chuckled Joker. "I guess it's for the best that we bust outta this dump. Bats must be missing a good honest fight with us."

"Oh, what's the point of fighting Batman?" sighed Tetch heavily.

Everyone turned to stare at him in disbelief. Then Joker suddenly punched him across the face. "Don't ever say anything like that ever again!" he hissed. "Just pull yourself together, Hatty! We gotta get outta here before the rest of you weaklings begin to go crazy like that! Now stop acting like a bunch of girls and just man up!"

"Hey! I'm not complaining!" retorted Ivy.

"Guess that makes you the manly one then, huh, Pammie?" chuckled Joker.

Ivy glared at him, grabbing a gun. "We girls could certainly show you boys a thing or two about courage and strength, if Harley's any example," she muttered. "And when I get my hands on that doctor, I'm going to take his electrical cables and shove them down his throat so deep, they come out the other side!"

Crane stared at her. "You're a terrifying woman, Pamela," he murmured.

"Aw, sounds like Johnny has a little crush on you, Pammie!" chuckled Joker. "He loves things that are terrifying!"

"I wouldn't dare," retorted Crane, dryly, helping himself to a gun.

"Hatty, try not to shoot yourself in the head outta despair," snapped Joker, shoving a gun at him. "Although I guess it would be pretty funny. Suicide usually is. Let's go."

They slowly opened the office door and then crept down the hall to the electrotherapy room. There were two guards outside it, which Ivy and Joker took out with a single shot to the head each. The Joker shot the lock off the door and kicked it open.

The others began taking out the doctors in the room, Ivy noting with some disappointment that Dr. Flint wasn't there. Joker rushed over to the machine and ripped the wires off Harley.

"Mr…J?" she stammered in disbelief.

"Hang on, kid," he murmured, picking her up gently. "We're getting you outta here."

An alarm suddenly sounded as a robotic voice said, "Inmate escape attempt. All patients to be pacified on sight. Shoot to kill permissions granted."

"That's our cue, ladies and gents!" laughed Joker. They raced out of the electrotherapy room towards the exit, shooting any guards on sight. Joker kicked open the door and they dashed across the grounds as bullets whizzed past them.

"Good Lord, they're trying to kill us!" shouted Crane.

"Then you'd better not get hit, Johnny!" shouted Joker back, laughing hysterically as he dodged a bullet.

They managed to reach the parking lot, and Joker handed Harley to Ivy as he hotwired a car. Leaping inside, they sped toward the gate, where the barrier was firmly down. Joker stepped on the gas.

"Hang on to your hats, kiddies!" he laughed, as they broke through the barrier and raced off into the streets of Gotham.

"Sayonara, suckers!" he cackled, waving at the guards shouting after them. A hail of bullets suddenly riddled the rear window, and everyone ducked down.

"My, they're determined, I'll give them that," muttered Joker, glancing in the rearview mirror to see cars following them, with armed guards hanging from the windows. "Pammie, take the wheel. I'm a better shot, and women are crazier drivers," he chuckled, grabbing his gun and climbing into the backseat.

"If we weren't in the middle of a car chase, I'd punch you," growled Ivy, climbing into the driver's seat and taking control of the car.

"Didn't your parents ever tell you not to stick your hands outta a moving vehicle, boys?" chuckled Joker, aiming his gun at one of the cars following them. "They'll get taken off!"

He laughed hysterically as the others heard screaming, and then a screech as one of the cars chasing them crashed into a building. "Feeling a little deflated, are we?" giggled Joker, aiming for the wheels of the other car. He shot one out, causing sparks to fly as it veered out of control.

Suddenly, one of the guards leapt from the crashing car onto the trunk of theirs. He had his gun pointed at Joker's face when they heard a shot, and blood poured from the guard's eye as he fell off the back of the vehicle. Joker turned to see Harley clutching a gun, glaring at the fast-receding corpse as she whispered, "It's all fun and games until somebody loses an eye."

Joker giggled madly, hugging Harley tightly and kissing her. "Took the words right outta my mouth, kid," he murmured, beaming.

Harley grinned at him. "There's something else I'd like to take outta your mouth, Mr. J," she whispered, kissing him deeply.

"Hey, can't you two wait until we get someplace more private?" snapped Ivy. "I do not want to see that!"

"Yeah, head for the abandoned amusement park," said Joker. "We'll hide out there for now. And I think we left a whoopie cushion in the funhouse, pooh," he murmured, kissing Harley.

"Oh, Mr. J!" she sighed, cuddling against him. Here, in his arms, she was warm and safe at last.


	7. Chapter 7

"Nobody understands why I care about them," muttered Dr. Leland, angrily stirring sugar into her coffee. "I don't even understand myself. But it's not right that they're subjected to that kind of treatment! I have to do something, but I don't know what I can do! I'm completely powerless, but if the police won't help, I can't just give up! Maybe I have allowed the inmates to influence me too much, because I certainly share their resolution at the moment! I mean, I know they're psychos and murderers, but there is something incredibly admirable in their extraordinary resilience and determination. Batman keeps beating them down, and they just keep fighting him, without a moment's hesitation to consider whether they should or not."

"Yeah, Joan, which is why they're considered insane," replied Laura, gazing at her in concern. They had been friends since childhood, but while Laura had decided to become an elementary school teacher, Joan had decided to devote her life to dealing with a far more dangerous type of child. Laura had never understood it, and she had always worried for her friend's safety working in a place like that. And now she was fearing slightly more for her sanity than usual. Maybe working with lunatics for so long had finally driven her round the bend, much as Laura didn't like to think that about her best friend. Plus how could you recommend a psychiatrist seek the advice of a psychiatrist? Surely they should be able to self-analyze…

They were seated in a café downtown, and Laura was distracted from her thoughts as the waiter brought her coffee. "Well, look, Joan, maybe it's for the best," she said slowly. "Y'know, maybe a harsher type of treatment will finally help cure them…"

"The only thing shocking them is going to do is make them angry," snapped Dr. Leland. "No, if they can be cured, it's not going to be through violence. They're all fighters, and what would beat other people down only makes them fight harder. That's the problem with Batman. I really appreciate all he's done, and I understand why he has to fight them, but constantly punching them out isn't helping anyone. It only repeats the never-ending cycle of violence. Mind you, it would help if we could keep them locked up…"

"You said 'we' again, Joan," pointed out Laura. "It's not your problem anymore, remember? You have enough to worry about."

"It is my problem because it's not right!" exclaimed Dr. Leland. "Injustice is everyone's problem – that's what Batman has taught us! And they may be freaks and monsters and murderers, but they deserve justice, Laura! They deserve to be treated like human beings! Batman believes that, and so do I!"

She suddenly realized everyone in the café was staring at her, and lowered her eyes, focusing back on her coffee. "I just hope, for their sake, security is still as bad under Flint as it always was under me," she muttered.

"It is," murmured Laura, staring past her.

"What makes you say that?" asked Dr. Leland.

She heard a tapping on the window and turned around. "Oh…my…God," she stammered.

The Joker was beaming and waving at her through the glass, surrounded by Harley, Ivy, Crane, and Tetch. A second later, the window exploded and shards of glass flew everywhere as people began panicking, screaming, and running. In the chaos, Dr. Leland felt her arm being grabbed. Before she knew what was happening, she was being bundled into a car.

"Good to see ya again, Doc!" chuckled Joker as he drove. "Did ya miss us?"

"Cause we sure as heck have missed you!" exclaimed Harley, hugging Dr. Leland tightly.

"Harley…" she stammered. "Oh, Harley!" she cried, returning the hug. "I'm so glad you're all right! When Pamela gave me that tape of you being tortured…"

"Hey, it'll take a lot more than a little shock to hurt me," retorted Harley, shrugging. "Mr. J and me sometimes enjoy being shocked during playtime, don't we, puddin'?" she breathed.

"Gives a whole new meaning to the word joy-buzzer," chuckled Joker.

"But yeah, that wasn't nearly as pleasant," continued Harley. "But if they thought a little pain was gonna make me turn against my puddin', they got another think coming."

"I'm just so glad you're all out of there," said Dr. Leland sincerely, studying them all. "Jonathan, you're looking thinner. And Jervis…did you steal that from the café?"

Tetch had a mug of tea in each hand and was gulping one down. "Yes, and I don't regret it in the slightest," he snapped. "O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" he sighed. "I can feel my headache going away!"

"Pamela, I tried to get Batman, but the police wouldn't listen to me," said Dr. Leland. "Bullock broke the tape you gave me."

"Bullock's a moron," growled Ivy.

"You can tell because he doesn't like Bats," said Joker. "You gotta be a moron if you don't like Bats."

"I don't like Batman," retorted Ivy.

"And I think you've just proved my point," said Joker, grinning.

"You calling me a moron, clown?" demanded Ivy.

"If the shoe fits, you must acquit," replied Joker.

"That doesn't even make any sense," snapped Ivy.

"Hey, I ain't the one who acquitted him!" chuckled Joker.

"I assume you have some form of plan?" asked Dr. Leland. "Some reason for kidnapping me?"

"Sure do, Doc," said Joker, nodding. "We're gonna force them to give you your old job back."

"And how are you planning on doing that?" asked Dr. Leland slowly.

"By promising to kill you if they don't!" laughed Joker.

Dr. Leland was silent. "I don't think they're going to respond well to threats of violence, Joker…" she began.

"Oh, don't you? And what do you suggest we do, then, Doc?" asked Joker. "Sign a petition? Write them a letter, maybe? Stage a public protest? Yeah, I'm sure that'll all do a lotta good. Violence is the only thing people respond to, Doc, so don't make me laugh! And Doc Flinty may be psycho, but Batsy isn't about to let you die, so he and the police will do whatever we tell them to! So don't worry! You're gonna get your job back, Doc Flint will suffer a mysterious accident involving the loss of all of his major organs, and things will all go back to the way they were!"

Somehow, Dr. Leland didn't quite believe him.


	8. Chapter 8

"I just know you're gonna find it real comfortable here, Joan. You can share Red's room," said Harley to Dr. Leland, leading her down the hall of the funhouse.

"You mean she's going to be keeping an eye on me?" asked Dr. Leland. "To make sure I don't run away?"

Harley looked at her. "I dunno why you'd want to run away, Joan," she replied. "We're trying to help you get your job back. Yeah, there's the threat of death, but that's only if they don't listen to us, and I'm sure they will. And it ain't anything like that – we all got roomies! Me and Mr. J, Jervis and Johnny, you and Red…it's a matter of space more than anything else. Funhouses weren't designed with accomodation in mind. I mean, I guess you could stay somewhere else in the amusement park, but I wouldn't know where to recommend. The haunted house is a dump, and the stalls all leak…"

"I'm sure I'll be fine with Pamela," interrupted Dr. Leland.

"Well, you let me know if you need anything," said Harley. "We gotta be up bright and early to film your ransom video, so get some sleep. Night, Joan!" she said, hugging her.

Harley skipped off down the hall and Dr. Leland sighed, entering the room. Poison Ivy was inside, tending to one of her plants. The room had several plants in it, and also a couple of makeshift beds in opposite corners.

"Pick whichever one you want – I don't mind," said Ivy, replacing the plant on the shelf with the others.

"Thanks. It's nice of you to let me room with you, Pamela," said Dr. Leland, sitting down by the pillows.

"Joan, how many times have I asked you to call me Ivy?" asked Ivy, picking up the watering can.

"That would be encouraging your self-made persona," replied Dr. Leland. "It's important for me to remind you that you are more than what you have become. You are Pamela Isley, a bright and promising biochemist…"

"I prefer Poison Ivy," she interrupted. "I prefer the name I've made for myself over the name I was given. Makes me feel like I've accomplished something, anyway."

"The things you have accomplished as Poison Ivy are not things to be proud of," replied Dr. Leland.

"I still accomplished them," retorted Ivy. "And I am proud of who I've become, Joan. Proud and happy. As a fellow successful career woman, surely you understand that."

"Our careers are not at all comparable…" began Dr. Leland.

"Of course they are," retorted Ivy, continuing to water her plants calmly. "Well, I admit, mine's the more glamorous job, but we're both women who have succeeded in a man's world. Women who have reached the top of a profession traditionally dominated by men. And unlike Harley, we've done it without the help of men. Whether or not you think the work that we do is morally right or wrong, that's surely something to be proud of, don't you think?"

Dr. Leland nodded slowly. "Yes, I suppose you have a point…"

"And from a moral point of view, I find your occupation a lot more troubling than mine," continued Ivy. "I admit, I hurt people. I kill people, but no matter how many people I kill, it's nothing compared to the number of my babies they've slaughtered without a second thought. Plants are living, breathing creatures, Joan. They feel. I feel their agony as they're mercilessly cut down without a second thought. At least someone usually mourns the people I kill. Nobody but me mourns the plants."

She began pruning them. "But like plants, people grow back. There are more and more of them every year, and like plants, they occasionally need pruning. I'm doing the world a favor – uprooting the weeds before they can choke the entire planet. Population control, if you will."

"However noble your motives might seem to you, it is wrong to kill people," retorted Dr. Leland. "And I can't help but think you do it mostly for revenge."

Ivy shrugged. "I admit I'm a fiery gal, and not one who takes the moral highground. If people hurt me, I hurt them worse. I have faults, and yes, I do seek revenge. It's the innately human part of me I can never be rid of, no matter how much I mutate my own blood. Part of the weakness of being human is to be vengeful, or angry, or petty, or frightened, or insecure, or a little crazy. And that's where your morality troubles me, Joan. That's what you're trying to destroy, or cure, to use your word. The parts of us that make us human. Our faults."

"Hardly. I'm trying to make you normal, productive members of society…"

"Yeah, by twisting our minds. By trying to change how we think and who we are." She put down the pruning shears and turned to look at her. "I hate the Joker. Everyone knows that. I hate him because he uses Harley, and abuses her, and treats her like crap. I also hate him for what he did to Harley. He twisted her mind, transformed her from a strong, independent career woman to some pathetic, submissive slave to his way of thinking. It's disgusting. It sickens me to think about it. It wasn't right for him to do that, I think everyone agrees on that. So explain to me how it's right for you to take people like me, or Johnny Crane, or Jervis Tetch, and tell us we're wrong. Tell us who we are isn't who we should be, twist us and shape us into a normal, productive member of society. You're no better than J, really. Except instead of a clown's sidekick, you're hoping to end up with a bright, promising biochemist. It's not who I am. It's not who I want to be. Changing me into that would be morally wrong, as wrong as J making Dr. Harleen Quinzel into Harley Quinn. And I am never going to end up like Harley Quinn."

Dr. Leland was silent. "I'm not trying to hurt any of you," she murmured. "I like you all. Probably more than I should."

"And we like you, Joan," replied Ivy, nodding. "I like you because I think, deep down inside, you understand what it is to be different."

Dr. Leland nodded. "Yes. I do understand that."

She sighed, leaning back against the wall and shutting her eyes. "When I first met Harley, she told me she had gone into psychiatry because she had always had an attraction for extreme personalities. I went into psychiatry for similar reasons. It wasn't an attraction on my part, though. I wasn't attracted to people who were different. I just…felt protective of them. I had a desire to care for people who didn't quite fit in, because they couldn't care for themselves. They needed me. I like to think they'll always need me."

She opened her eyes and looked at Ivy. "I had a little brother called Jake. He was…different. He was so smart, borderline genius, in fact, he may have been a genius. His IQ tests were astounding for a child, but he didn't quite…fit in at school. He was bullied, called names, like Professor Crane. Only Jake wasn't as…strong as Professor Crane. Not as resilient…I tried to stop the bullying, I tried to protect him as much as I could, but none of us ever knew how much it affected him…"

She took a deep breath. "He…killed himself. Nobody saw it coming. He left a note, saying he didn't blame anyone, not even the bullies. But I blamed myself for not being able to protect him. If he had just talked to me, I'm sure I could have helped him, I'm sure I could have taken care of him…but he didn't."

She had tears in her eyes. "Jake never…hurt anyone. He was a sweet kid. Gentle, kind, thoughtful, innocent really, not like you people. But if he had started lashing out and hurting people, I would have understood. Because sometimes you have to fight back. Sometimes you have to stand up for yourself and show the world it can't bully you, or change you. And if you don't have anyone to take care of you, you have to take care of yourself. But I've always tried…when I was head at Arkham…to take care of you people. To let you know that I wasn't trying to bully you or hurt you, that I was just trying to help you, to protect you. I wanted the asylum to be a sanctuary for you, to show you that you didn't have to be violent and crazy, that there was a place where you could be accepted for who you are. And maybe if I just talked to you, and listened to you, and tried to help you…you would help yourselves. You would realize you didn't have to fight anymore."

She sighed heavily. "But ten years later, and nothing has changed. So maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm just crazy too."

Ivy was looking at her tenderly. Then she hugged her gently. "You're not any more crazy than the rest of us," she whispered.

"Well, that's a relief to hear," said Dr. Leland, managing a smile.

Ivy smiled too, hugged her again, and then went over to her bed. "Goodnight, Joan," she said.

"Goodnight, Ivy," she whispered.


	9. Chapter 9

Batman entered the room where Commissioner Gordon and Detective Bullock were seated in front of a television. "Thanks for coming all this way, Batman," said Gordon, standing up and shaking his hand. "We've been sent a tape which we think you'd be interested in taking a look at."

He pressed a remote, and footage began playing of Dr. Joan Leland tied to a chair. And suddenly, the face of the Joker appeared in front of the lens. "Helloooo, Batsy!" he chuckled, waving. "I don't think any introductions are necessary – I know you recognize your friend and mine, Dr. Leland," he said, gesturing to her. "Now the Doc's looking none the worse for wear, for now. Which is more than I can say for me and the gang under Doc Flinty's administration at Arkham! You would not believe the kinda crazy crap going on in the asylum at the moment, Bats. People call us nuts, but that Doc Flint is a real headcase! Babbling a lot of crap about me killing his wife, just because she happened to be a punchline to one of my jokes, and then torturing us for revenge! He oughta be locked up, along with the Mayor for appointing him! What kinda world are we living in, I ask ya, when lunatics are put in charge of running the asylum? That's right, a crazy one! And you don't like living in a crazy world, do ya, Bats? You fight real hard to try to convince yourself you don't live in a crazy world, and that you can make it into a nice, pretty, fair world of order and justice. But see, you're a looney, and they don't put you in charge of Arkham Asylum!" he laughed.

"Just get to the point, clown!" snapped Poison Ivy's voice from off-camera.

"Don't talk to Mr. J like that, Red!" retorted Harley, who was obviously the one holding the camera, as it now switched to focus on Ivy.

"Harley, I'm the one you're supposed to be filming!" shouted Joker, and the camera was shaken violently as there was the sound of a slap and Harley shrieked in pain. And then the footage went fuzzy and they could only hear voices.

"Don't hit her, you sick bastard! Hasn't she been through enough being shocked by that madman?"

"I'll do what I wanna with my property, Pammie!"

"She ain't your property, you disgusting creep!"

"Would you both stop fighting?" came Jonathan Crane's voice. "This is meant to be about Dr. Leland!"

"Yes, they won't be inclined to listen to us if we can't even tell them what we want!" snapped Jervis Tetch. "So why don't Tweedledum and Tweedledee postpone their battle until this is over! Go ahead, my dear."

The camera focused again on Joker and Dr. Leland. "So here's the thing, Bats," continued Joker, resuming his smile. "We ain't going back to Arkham Asylum until you get rid of this Flint psycho and put Doc Leland here back in charge. As an extra incentive, if you don't do what we want, we're gonna have to pull the plug on the good doctor, and you know as well as I do that you won't want blood on your hands for anything in the world. Though heaven knows why – all it takes is a little soap to wash it off!" he chuckled.

He glanced at his watch. "We'll give you…let's say forty-eight hours. That'll be enough time to talk to people and make things happen for a go-getter like you, won't it? If we don't hear from you by then, Doc Leland here is going to have her session with that Great Madman in the Sky far sooner than expected! Though frankly I'm pretty sure it's beyond even her talents to cure Him!"

He giggled and waved. "See ya soon, Bats! Buh bye!"

The camera shook again as it was put down on the ground. Commissioner Gordon stood up to turn off the tape, but Batman held up his hand. "It's still rolling," he murmured.

"You know, you could stand to look a little more scared, Doc," muttered Joker as they saw him untying her. "Might hurry Bats along if he thinks we're treating you badly. Maybe we should have bruised you up a bit before filming."

"I'm sure he'll hurry anyway," said Dr. Leland, standing up and rubbing her wrists. "He believes in justice and humanity, unlike that idiot Bullock. Although frankly if he had seen what was on that tape he destroyed, I imagine even his heart would have melted a bit. It would hurt anyone with even half a heart to watch Harley in pain."

"Yep, which is why they say I ain't got a heart!" chuckled Joker, as he slapped Harley playfully. Harley squeaked and kissed him, cuddling into his embrace. "Besides, she likes it," he said, patting her head.

"Only when you do it, Mr. J," she sighed. "Nobody can hurt me like you can!"

"Yes, as Joan just said, J's the only one monstrous enough to do that," muttered Ivy.

"He ain't monstrous!" snapped Harley. "He's sweet and handsome and precious and adorable and…"

"Harley, is that camera still on?" asked Joker, suddenly noticing the red light.

"Aw, crap!" exclaimed Harley, rushing over to it.

"You stupid, worthless, annoying waste of space…" began Joker furiously, and then the camera cut off.

Gordon and Batman turned to look at Bullock. "What tape?" demanded Gordon.

Bullock ran his fingers through his hair. "The Doc came here raving about wanting to see Batman. But I know he's a busy guy with a lot on his plate, and he can't be bothered with every little detail, so I told her to beat it. She had a tape with her which she claimed showed the loonies in pain, but personally I understood that was to help with their treatment…"

"So you destroyed evidence," said Gordon, angrily.

"It wasn't evidence!" protested Bullock. "It was a lotta nonsense! Look, this new doctor may be using harsher treatments on the psychos, but he was appointed by the Mayor, so surely the guy knows what he's doing!"

"That's not your decision, though, is it?" demanded Gordon. "You should have referred the matter to me, or just done what she asked and got Batman! Now an innocent woman is being held hostage by those maniacs, and it's all your fault!"

"Hey, like they said, Batman will sort it out!" snapped Bullock. "Just like usual, right, Bat…" he began.

But Batman had disappeared. Gordon turned back to Bullock. "This isn't over," he snapped. "There's going to be serious consequences for your behavior."

"Sure, slap me with some desk work for a couple months," retorted Bullock. "I can take it."

"Maybe," said Gordon, storming from the room. "Or maybe I'll just ban donuts. That should hit you where it hurts if nothing else will."


	10. Chapter 10

"Doctor Flint?"

Flint looked up at the window to his office see Batman standing there. "Oh, it's you," he said, standing up. "The great hero of Gotham City. To what do I owe the honor?"

"I've recently been informed of your methods of treating the lunatics contained in this facility," said Batman. "I understand they're…unorthodox, to say the least."

"If it's orthodox to talk gently to them and pamper them and try to understand them, then yes, my methods are unorthodox," agreed Dr. Flint, nodding. "They would have been effective, however, if the security in this facility could be improved. The Mayor informed me it was a consistent problem, and has promised me that he'll look into it. Though I doubt that's much consolation to the families of the guards and doctors they murdered during their escape."

"No, it's difficult to forgive in grief," agreed Batman, nodding. "Believe me, I understand. I was sorry to hear about the death of your wife. But what will vengeance solve?"

Dr. Flint smiled grimly. "If I subjected the lunatics to pain merely for the sake of revenge, that would make me a poor man, and a poor doctor. I do not do it to avenge myself upon them. I do it to prevent others having to suffer loss as I have suffered, to prevent the monsters from destroying the lives of other people. I am trying to break their violent impulses by any methods necessary. If that includes breaking their spirits as well, it is a price I am willing to pay. If the only way to stop a maniac like the Joker is to destroy him, I will destroy him."

"I will not," retorted Batman. "I will never do that. I don't have the right…"

"Right?" interrupted Dr. Flint angrily. "Did he have the right to take my wife away from me? Do any of them have the right to slaughter and kill indiscriminately? I understand and appreciate what you're trying to do, Batman, truly. But in order to create the world you want to live in, one of peace and safety, we must have the stomach to do things you may not consider to be right. Great goodness cannot be achieved without great sacrifice. I'm sure you understand that."

"But there are some things we should never sacrifice," murmured Batman. "Things that separate us from them. Mercy, compassion, humanity, decency…"

"Words," muttered Dr. Flint. "Empty words, and of little comfort, no matter how many times you repeat them. Well, perhaps they are a comfort to you, but they are not to me. I cannot look at a fiend like the Joker, sitting in his cell, smiling and laughing, probably at all the people he's killed, and think to myself 'Well, he may be a murdering monster, but at least I'm the decent one. He may be happy and carefree, but at least I have compassion.' What sort of decent and compassionate man lets scum like that continue to exist? Or perhaps he has never hurt you, really hurt you, as he has me."

"There is no one he has hurt worse than me," murmured Batman. "Except Commissioner Gordon. And Harley Quinn."

"I tried to help Dr. Quinzel," murmured Dr. Flint. "Reasoning with her has never worked – even her best friend and fellow lunatic Pamela Isley has no effect reasoning with her. But she has to be saved. She has to have her eyes opened to what he really is, to what she has done, to all the time she has wasted caring for that sick monster…"

"And you thought pain would do that?" asked Batman quietly. "When he has put her through constant pain and she still hasn't seen it?"

He sighed heavily. "I don't know what else to do. If reason and force both prove ineffective, I see no other option but to give up. And you and I are not the type of men to give up. We are the type of men who will use whatever methods are necessary to protect the innocent and control the lunatics. Even pain and violence. Mine is torture for a purpose, and I know you believe in that, Batman."

Batman was silent. "The escaped inmates have taken Dr. Leland hostage," he murmured. "They're demanding that you be removed for your post, or they'll kill her."

Dr. Flint snorted. "Well, then perhaps she will finally realize that they are monsters, heartless, unfeeling monsters, and she should not have indulged them as she did. I would say she is lying in the bed she made."

"Be that as it may, I won't allow them to kill her," murmured Batman.

"Then go rescue her," he retorted. "I'm sure you can. Or did you come here to ask me to capitulate to the lunatics and resign? I will not allow myself to be blackmailed by creatures like them, or anyone."

"I don't think you're a bad man, Dr. Flint," murmured Batman. "I think you are a man in pain, and I would like to help you. But I would like you to admit that to yourself, and take some time away from your career to overcome your grief and regain control of your mind…"

"My mind is perfectly sound!" snapped Dr. Flint. "I am nothing like the animals contained in here, and I resent the suggestion! I am perfectly capable, both physically and mentally, of doing the job I have been appointed to do. If you have a problem with my methods, I suggest you contact the Mayor, although I doubt he'll be inclined to listen to a man who has failed to stop the lunatics from causing chaos in his city time and again. So why don't you just go save the good doctor and drag the degenerates back here, so I can put a stop to the terror once and for all? Isn't that what you want, Batman? An end to the violence? Because I swear to you that I will not rest until I have cured them, one way or another. And this time, there will be no escape for them. We are installing full-body restraints in every cell. They will not be able to move, or speak – they will only be taken out for their therapy sessions under heavy guard. I think they will cure themselves quite quickly under such conditions. What do you think, Batman?"

Batman said nothing, turning away and heading for the window. "I will bring them back," he murmured. "And then we'll talk."

"Yes, do that," replied Dr. Flint, nodding. Batman flew out into the night, and Dr. Flint stared after him. "But we know what good talking does, don't we, Batman?" he murmured. "None. Absolutely none at all."


	11. Chapter 11

"So, who wants to hear a joke?"

"Nobody, Joker," retorted Posion Ivy, watering her plants. They had all gathered in the ball room of the funhouse, and Dr. Leland was throwing a ball against the wall repeatedly and catching it. Crane and Tetch were examing the mechanics of the moving floor in the room next door, and Harley was cuddling Joker affectionately.

"I wanna hear a joke, puddin'," she murmured.

"What do you get when you cross Doc Flint with my knife?"

"I dunno, puddin'."

"An unidentifiable corpse!" chuckled Joker. To everyone's surprise, a drum roll and cymbal crash suddenly sounded around the room.

"What the hell is that?" muttered Ivy.

Harley giggled suddenly. "I found it in a pile of our old junk, puddin'!" she exclaimed, holding out a small keyring with a button on it. She pressed the button and _ba dum ching_ sounded again. "I bought it for you ages ago, but I forgot to give it to you! This way you can always let people know when you're telling a joke! Merry Christmas, puddin'!" she breathed, kissing him.

Joker looked at it contemptously. "It's April, Harley. And if I have to have a sound to indicate when I've told a joke, it's not a very good joke. It's like having to explain a joke. My jokes speak for themselves. So why don't you just get rid of that?"

"Aw, but I like it, puddin'!" she exclaimed. "I'll just keep it for you, how about that?"

"Ok, but use it sparingly," he sighed. "It has the potential to get old real fast."

"Rightaroonie, Mr. J!" said Harley, saluting.

"So Doc, does observing the crazies in their natural habitat aid in your diagnosis?" chuckled Joker, turning to Dr. Leland.

"Well, it confirms that none of you are putting on an act, not that I ever suspected you were," retorted Dr. Leland. "But some people think you only play up your personas in public."

"Nah, Mr. J has got the clown thing going on 24/7!" said Harley, beaming at him. "Even during playtime, he likes the whoopie cushion and the rubber chicken…"

Joker clapped a hand over her mouth. "The doctor doesn't need to know everything, pooh," he said. "If you start blabbing about our fetishes, she might think we have a problem! She might try to drag us off to the looney bin!" he chuckled.

"I wouldn't presume to think you have _a _problem, Joker," retorted Dr. Leland. "The list detailing what's wrong with you is basically never-ending."

Joker laughed. "Well, what can I say? I do my best, and I hate to disappoint people. And how disappointing would it be for everyone if you could just file me away under some little simple diagnosis? I know you love doing that kinda thing, Doc – you shrinks love to parcel people away under little labels. Sexual deviancy," he said, gesturing at Ivy. "Nerdism. Pedophilia," he said, as Crane and Tetch entered the room.

"I beg your pardon?" demanded Tetch.

"Terminal stupidity," continued Joker, gesturing at Harley. "Y'see, it's so easy and boring! I'm just here to show the doctors you can't simplify everyone!"

_Ba dum ching_ sounded again. "That's not a joke, Harley!" snapped Joker, rounding on her angrily.

"I'd say we could make a pretty accurate summary of what's wrong with you, J," muttered Ivy, folding her arms across her chest. "Heartlessness."

"Egoism," said Crane, joining in.

"Arrogance," chimed in Tetch.

"Suffering under the delusion that you're funny," continued Ivy.

"When really the only one you amuse is yourself," finished Crane.

"Total disregard for fellow humanity and lack of empathy," continued Tetch.

"Strong sense of sadism," said Ivy. "Taking perverse pleasure in the pain and suffering of others."

"Likewise a strong sense of masochism," said Crane. "Relishing the pain others inflict upon you."

"Relentless desire to prove you're better than everyone else," said Tetch.

"Self-centeredness," said Crane. "Believing you're the only one who's up to battling the Bat."

"Repressed homosexual tendencies," said Ivy, smiling. "Manifesting themselves in the need to hurt and destroy the object of your forbidden desire."

"Hey! I ain't got that last one!" snapped Joker.

"Mr. J ain't any of those things!" cried Harley, furiously. "I understand puddin's a real controversial figure, so that leads to a lot of strong feelings, but great people often are controversial! You either love him or hate him!"

"I hate him," retorted Ivy.

"As do I," said Crane.

"I would also like to associate myself with those sentiments," said Tetch.

Harley's eyes narrowed. "Well, I love him, so screw you, jerks!" she snapped, embracing Joker tightly.

"I gotta say, I'm impressed by the diagnosis," said Dr. Leland, sincerely. "You've all clearly been paying attention during your therapy sessions. I can't deny I'm a little flattered."

"I wouldn't be," retorted Crane, dryly. "If certified lunatics can accurately diagnose a man, it doesn't say much for the validity of your profession, does it?"

"Your profession too, Jonathan," retorted Dr. Leland.

"I merely taught it," said Crane. "The examples we have of actual psychiatrists are you, Dr. Flint, and Harley. And of the three, you're the only one who seems relatively sane. Not the most ringing endorsement of psychiatry as a whole, would you not agree?"

Dr. Leland sighed. "If I spend any more time hanging around you people, I'll probably be driven crazy too."

_Ba dum ching!_

"That's not a joke, Harley!" shouted Joker, striking her across the face.

"It sorta was – I have no intention of going crazy," retorted Dr. Leland.

"And she won't be hanging around you all much longer," said a voice. They all turned to see Batman appearing from the shadows. "You're going to let her go now, and come back with me to Arkham," he said quietly.

"Maybe we will, if you've done what we want," said Joker, standing up and smiling. "Doc Flint's outta there, is he?"

"I'm taking you back first, and then we'll discuss removing…" began Batman.

"Nope, sorry Bats, no dice," chuckled Joker. "That psycho needs to be outta the building before we psychos even think of entering it again."

"He won't resign…"

"Well, make him, Batsy!" exclaimed Joker. "Slap him around a little until he does what you want! That's what you always do with us, and he's at least as crazy as us!"

"I don't have the authority to…"

"Oh, blah blah blah," interrupted Joker, waving his hand. "You're Batman! You have the authority to do whatever you want! That's what being a vigilante means! It means you don't answer to authority! In that way, you're like us too, Batsy! And we ain't gonna put up with Doc Flint's authority no more. You ain't dragging us back there. You try, and the Doc gets it."

He pointed his gun at Dr. Leland. A second later, a Batarang hit his hand, and his gun fell to the ground. And an instant after that, Batman was standing in front of Dr. Leland. "It's over, Joker," he muttered, priming another Batarang. "Just come quietly."

Joker sighed heavily. "Ok, Bats. You've left us no choice. Harley baby, c'mere."

She entered his waiting arms. Everyone was shocked when Joker suddenly pulled out a knife and held it against her throat. "What the hell are you doing?" shrieked Ivy, starting forward.

"We discussed it last night – Harley said she'd rather die than be dragged back there," murmured Joker. "Said she wanted to die by my hand rather than being shocked to death, ain't that right, baby?"

"That's right, Mr. J," Harley murmured. Her face was deadly serious as she gazed calmly at Batman. "If I went back there, Flint wouldn't stop until I betrayed puddin', or I was dead. And I'd rather die with dignity at the hands of the man I love than betray him. He'll do it, too, because he loves me. You go ahead, puddin'. I'm ready," she said, shutting her eyes.

"Wait," said Crane, softly. He pulled out his own knife, holding the blade against his heart. "I agree with Harley. Death is preferable to returning under Flint's administration. If you insist on dragging us back, Batman, you insist upon our deaths."

"One, two! One, two! And through and through the vorpal blade went snicker-snack!" murmured Tetch, drawing his own knife and holding it against his throat.

Batman stared at them. "You can't seriously mean…"

"Don't doubt their sincerity," murmured Dr. Leland, stepping in front of him. "I don't. But you don't need to do this. None of you need to do this. If you trust me, I promise you I won't let Dr. Flint hurt you again. But you have to trust me. I will protect you, I swear it. Please believe me."

She looked at them all steadily, her gaze finally resting on Ivy. "Please trust me," she murmured. "I will take care of you. I promise."

Ivy nodded slowly. "Do as she says."

Crane and Tetch gradually lowered their weapons. "J, do as she says," repeated Ivy firmly.

"I don't take orders from you, Pammie, and I don't trust shrinks," muttered Joker.

"I trust her," murmured Harley. "Please, Mr. J."

He looked at her and then Dr. Leland, and sighed. "I really must be outta my mind," he muttered, sheathing the blade.

Dr. Leland smiled gently at them. "Thank you," she whispered. "Now Batman," she said, turning to him. "I don't think the facilities at Arkham are quite suitable for these patients at the moment. The security, as is obvious from their escape, is still not up to scratch. So might I recommend a compromise. The mental hospital I have been transferred to has just opened a new ward. It will only be a temporary holding facility, but it should be more secure than Arkham, and I think I can give the Mayor my personal guarantee that there will be no escape attempts. And during this temporary arrangement, perhaps you can let the Mayor view the security camera footage under Dr. Flint's administration, and see if you can't persuade him to try alternative methods of therapy. And if you can't, one of my friends is a human rights lawyer, who I'm sure will be very interested in seeing the footage too, and speaking to the Mayor and the press. Does that sound satisfactory to all concerned?"

Everyone muttered their approval, and Joker suddenly laughed hysterically. "Hey, maybe this gal is a miracle worker after all!" he chuckled. "She got Bats and me to agree on something! What a gag!"

_Ba dum ching!_

"Not that kinda gag, Harley!" snapped Joker. "More ironic funny than ha ha funny! Just gimme that damn thing, will ya?"

He snatched it away from her. "Let's go, Doc! I wanna check out our fancy new digs!" he chuckled, following Dr. Leland out of the room. Harley raced after him, catching his arm.

"Puddin', it's great that we ain't going back to Arkham and all, but we gotta make Doc Flint pay, right?" she asked quietly, so that no one could hear.

Joker giggled. "Now baby, you know I can't hold a grudge! What's my golden rule?"

"Um…never just shoot Batman?" she said, puzzled.

He chuckled, patting her head. "No, no, pumpkin pie," he murmured. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you! And that's just what we're gonna do to Doc Flint! Exactly what he did to us! And trust me, pooh, he's gonna be shocked!"

_Ba dum ching! _


	12. Chapter 12

"You've summoned the guards to bring the patient?" asked Dr. Flint, not looking up from the file he was reading as he entered the electrotherapy room.

"Yes, sir, Dr. Flint," said the doctor, wearing glasses and a lab coat, with her blonde hair done up in a tight bun. "They should be here shortly."

"Good," he said, continuing to read the file. "Where's the other assistant?"

"Just coming, Doc!" said a voice as a man entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He turned the key in the lock, and Flint looked up, annoyed.

"Don't lock it, you fool, we're still expecting the patient…" he began, but his voice froze in his throat as the assistant turned around, to reveal the smiling face of the Joker, dressed in a lab coat and wearing thick, square glasses without lenses.

"Patient's here, Doc!" he chuckled.

Before Flint could react, he was clubbed on the head by the blonde assistant, who shook her hair out and was suddenly recognizable as Harley Quinn.

"Well, that should hold him until he wakes up," said Joker, as he finished securing the unconscious Dr. Flint to the metal slab and hooked up the wires. "How do I look, pooh? I feel all nerdy," he said, adjusting his glasses. "I can feel my social skills evaporating, and the depression and lack of self-worth settling in. Must be how Johnny Crane feels every day!" he chuckled.

"You look just precious, puddin'," cooed Harley, kissing his cheek. "I've always had a little thing for nerdy guys. I kinda wish I'd hit him harder so he'd be out longer, and we could play naughty doctor and dirty nurse."

He giggled. "Well, we could see how far we can go before he wakes up. How are you feeling today, Nurse Quinn?"

"Oooh, honestly, Doctor, not too good," she sighed, grinning. "Real…bad, actually."

"Oh, my. Would you like Doctor Joker to take a look at anything? I'm sure I can make you feel better," he said, smiling as he picked her up and sat her on top of the desk. "Just tell me where it hurts, and I'll give you a close examination. If nothing else helps, I'll have to give you a shot to make it better. Would you like the Doctor to give you a shot, Nurse Quinn?" he murmured, grinning as he leaned into her.

"Oh yes, please, Doctor," she whispered, opening her legs and pulling him into her embrace. "I think you'll need to examine me thoroughly first," she murmured, unbuttoning her blouse. "You don't wanna miss something important, like I did on that patient. I'm still in need of a good tongue-lashing for that."

"Well, allow me, Nurse Quinn," he murmured, kissing her passionately. She began tearing at his shirt when Dr. Flint groaned. Joker sighed, drawing away.

"Ain't it always the way?" he muttered. "You get in the mood, and the prisoner regains consciousness. Oh well!" he chuckled, adjusting his glasses again as Harley reluctantly buttoned up her top. "I'm sure we can have even more shocking fun with Doc Flinty! Might even be able to cure him of the annoyance of life, just like I did with his wife, eh, Flinty?"

"When I get out of here, I will break you both!" he hissed.

"Oh dear, he does have anger issues," sighed Joker. "Those kinda things can get you into trouble if you're not careful. Well, this doctor friend of mine says the best way to rid people of violent impulses is to use electrotherapy. The guy swears by it, doncha, Doc?" he said, grinning.

"This is your last warning," muttered Dr. Flint.

Joker sighed, taking off his glasses and pretending to clean the lenses. "Well, I don't see any other choice, Nurse Quinn. Anger issues, delusions of being in authority, sick, perverted pleasure in torturing people…I really do think pain is the only way to cure him."

He replaced the glasses on his nose. "Now Doc, I know it's gonna be hard for you to admit, and it's not something you wanna say, but if you're gonna help yourself, you gotta take this first step. You gotta admit that you're crazy. You gotta tell me that everything you believed in was a lie, and you gotta apologize to me for thinking otherwise. So go ahead, Doc. Say 'I'm crazy.'"

"Never!" snapped Flint.

Joker nodded. "Nurse Quinn, if you would be so kind."

"Sure thing, Doctor J," sighed Harley, pulling the switch. Bolts of electricity shot through Dr. Flint, who roared in pain.

"Now Doc, I can make the pain stop," said Joker, grinning, after several minutes of torture. "All I need you to say is that you're crazy. Say that, and the pain will go away. Permanently."

"Go ahead and kill me!" he hissed. "I'll see you in hell!"

Joker chuckled. "Kill you, Doc? I'm trying to help you! Why can't you see that? I'm trying to cure you of the troublesome burden of sanity! You don't need my help, though – you're already off the rails! All you gotta do is admit it. If you don't, I still won't kill you, but I can guarantee you'll think of me every day for the rest of your life, every morning when you're helped outta bed and into your wheelchair, every day you spend immobile in front of your TV, and every night you're helped back outta your wheelchair and into your bed. You'll stare at the ceiling thinking about me, about Harley, about all of us, and how you failed. And I hope you'll think of me laughing. Cause that's what I'm gonna be doing, Doc. I can't help it – just thinking about it puts a smile on my face!" He chuckled. "Ready to take his therapy to the next level, Nurse Quinn?" he asked, turning to Harley.

"Yes, sir, Doctor J!" said Harley, turning the switches to maximum.

"I think cooking him for ten minutes oughta do it!" said Joker, checking his watch. "Start the oven, Nurse Quinn!"

Ten minutes later, Joker held up his hand. Dr. Flint had lost consciousness. Joker checked his pulse and made sure he was breathing and then turned away. "C'mon, baby, we better get back before Doc Leland realizes we're gone," he said, heading for the door. "Oops, almost forgot to give him something to remember me by!" he chuckled, pulling out his knife. He took one of Dr. Flint's hands and carved a 'J' deep into the back of it. "You wanna do one, pooh?" he asked, handing the knife to her.

Harley giggled, carving 'HQ' into his other hand. Then Joker took the knife back and expertly cut the word 'crazy' onto Dr. Flint's forehead. "Consider yourself cured, Doc!" he said, striding from the room and laughing.


	13. Chapter 13

All Dr. Leland had heard was that Dr. Flint had suffered an accident and had to be immediately retired from his post. The Mayor had come to see her and asked if she would be interested in resuming her old job as head of Arkham Asylum, since they were in need of an immediate replacement. She had agreed readily.

Of course she had suspected that the inmates had had something to do with Dr. Flint's accident, but it wasn't until she visited him in the hospital to pass on her wishes of a speedy recovery that she realized who exactly had done it, nor what they had done. She was horrified, although hardly surprised. Personally she thought he was lucky to still be alive, although when she was told by the doctors that he was permanently paralyzed from the waist down, she wondered if lucky was precisely the right word. It was horrible, to see how they had broken him, but she could never forget that he had tried to break them first. That didn't make what had happened to him right, of course. And she felt even more fortunate and grateful, upon her return to Arkham, at the fact that the inmates treated her with respect and deference. She had seen what happened to people they didn't like. It wasn't pretty.

She realized that, in a way, she was a hostage to them. If for one instant she stopped indulging their whims, they would turn on her, like they did to Flint. In a way, they were like wild animals, temporarily tamed and pacified, but always in danger of returning to savagery if pushed too far.

But then, who wasn't? Batman, maybe. And other heroes like him. But people, regular, ordinary people could only take so much abuse and ill-treatment before they snapped. Why should she expect lunatics to be better than them?

Yes, they were dangerous. Wild animals, or spoiled children, she thought as she watched Harley squeal in delight as her pictures of the Joker were returned to her cell. Dangerous children, whom she indulged, for her own sake, and for theirs, she thought as she saw Tetch's eyes light up with relief at the return of his tea set, or the joy in Crane's eyes as his books were returned. Dangerous children who, nevertheless, needed her protection, she thought as she watched Ivy gently tending her plants. They were all both fierce and gentle, dangerous and vulnerable. All too human, perhaps, she thought with a smile.

Except one. The Joker would forever remain a mystery to her, as he probably was to everyone, she thought, as she passed by his cell. He was whistling to himself, smiling, and occasionally laughing. She didn't like to think what he was laughing about. He noticed her staring and waved. "Good to have ya back, Doc!" he chuckled. "I mean it, I really do! Shocking thing to have happen to Dr. Flint, wasn't it?" he giggled.

_Ba dum ching_ went the buzzer.

"No, I can't say I'm surprised," sighed Dr. Leland. "But then perhaps I know you too well. If one can know someone well without actually knowing them at all."

"Oh sure, I do it all the time!" he laughed. "Take Batsy. No idea who the guy really is, but I know him better than I know anyone else in the world! It's the best kinda relationship, Doc, trust me," he chuckled.

"That is not something I'm about to do," she retorted. "But thank you for trusting me. I appreciate that maybe you look upon me as something like the lesser of two evils, but I imagine that's fairly high praise from you."

Joker chuckled. "What did I say when you were leaving, Doc?" he laughed. "Better the devil you know than the devil you don't. And you're the devil I know, and who knows me. And as long as we understand one another, there's no reason why we shouldn't exist peacefully. Providing you don't get in the way of my fun, of course, and that I don't suddenly think up a good gag for your death! Comedy's about the unexpected, y'know. It always keeps you on your toes."

Dr. Leland looked at him. "You're considering building a joke around my death?" she murmured. "Goodness, I must be special. Aren't your thoughts usually preoccupied with jokes for Batman's death?"

He laughed hysterically. "Aw, see, you do know me, Doc! Better not try to get to know me too well, though, or we'll have nothing to talk about at the therapy sessions," he said, his voice taking on a dangerous tone. "When's my next one?" he asked, instantly brightening.

"Tuesday," she replied.

"I'll see ya then!" he said, smiling.

She smiled back. "I'm looking forward to it," she replied, heading back to her office.

**The End**


End file.
